


Unclaimed

by codevassie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), I had so much fun figuring out everyone's godly parent, Lotor being a dick, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Sparring, Tumblr request, Weapons, marked as complete but i have more ideas so maybe i'll revisit this one day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codevassie/pseuds/codevassie
Summary: More and more campers are leaving camp to join Kronos. Keith stays, despite remaining unclaimed, but there are many who believe he's bound to betray them. It's hard, not knowing where you belong, but Keith will prove he's meant to be at Camp Half Blood.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Minor Allura/Lotor - Relationship, Unrequited Romelle/Allura, for now - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80





	1. Eight Years

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if I got anything to the PJO universe incorrect. I can’t remember every single detail of the books and, I must say, that is one of my greatest downfalls as a human being. This takes place during Sea of Monsters.
> 
> Originally Posted: February 5, 2019 on [my writing blog](https://codevassie.tumblr.com) where I accept oneshot requests.

“One,” Keith murmured to himself as he plucked at a strawberry, dropping it into the basket at his feet. “Two, three, four,” he continued counting.

The wind swept past, rustling his bangs across his sweaty forehead. The sun beat down, the weather adjusted for camper comfort, but not the physical labor of hours in the strawberry fields.

“Five… six…” Two more thumps into the basket, filling fuller with the ruby red fruit, delicious where they shined in the bright sunlight. “Seven…”

Keith paused, hand carefully extended to number eight. His fingertips brushed its smooth surface, but he retracted it before it plucked.

He righted himself from his bent posture, directing his line of sight across the field where numerous others were hard at work. The satyrs played their music. The Demeter and Dionysus kids wiggled their fingers, making the vines dance. There were some other kids who had gotten roped into the task too, but mostly it was just them. Satyrs. Demeter and Dionysus kids. And that one kid who hadn’t been claimed yet.

For eight years.

It really had been that long now, hadn’t it? Keith had stumbled his way into camp eight years ago, dirty, scared, orphaned, and only seven years old. Somehow, he had found his way there, in a place he was supposed to belong. Finally.

Except, not even at Camp Half Blood had Keith really belonged. He’d been stuck in the cabin of rejects, of extras, of forgottens. And, whoever his godly parent out there was, they hadn’t cared to get him out.

Hadn’t bothered to send just the tiniest sign. For eight years.

Suddenly, Keith didn’t feel like working in the field anymore. That eighth strawberry could pluck itself.

So he gathered his basket and walked to one of the others, handing it over before making his way out of the fields. He was tired from his work, and nothing sounded better than a bed right now - a bed which had taken years to earn since he wasn’t even an official part of the Hermes cabin and all - but he wouldn’t be going back to the cabin just yet. If there was anything guaranteed about the chaos of the Hermes cabin, it was that there would always be people in it, always a crowd, and Keith didn’t feel like dealing with a crowd right now.

Instead, he went to the arena where only a couple of people had decided to spend their afternoon. Since the border had been poisoned, the weather had become increasingly hotter and its magic was unable to regulate it. Most people were inside, with the air conditioning.

So Keith found himself a corner of the arena and started to hack away at one of the dummies. He was already sweating from his work in the fields and the scorching weather, but he decided he didn’t care much as long as he got to swing his sword, stretch his muscles, and ignore the world.

He didn’t want to think of it all. The border. The monster attacks. That Percy kid off on another quest to save them all. Luke…

_“Aren’t you sick of it? How many years has it been now and your mom won’t claim you?”_

_Eight_ years…

He swallowed down the sick feeling that rose in his throat, putting extra effort into slashing the dummy. It split, half of it falling to the ground. Shit, now he’d have to replace that.

Keith threw his sword into the dirt, leaving it to stick up like Excalibur in the stone, while he went to drag away the useless dummy. He tried to forget Luke’s voice. He tried to forget how tempting it had been to follow. He’d trusted Luke. He’d looked up to the guy - was even kind of close to him, considering no one survived in the Hermes cabin without having known its cabin leader. He had been a great cabin leader.

But it hadn’t been a shock, really. Keith regretted that - that he had almost seen it coming. Luke had always been so bitter towards their parents. There had always been something off about the way he brushed it off, like he had to force himself to calm down.

It was something achingly familiar, this grudge that Luke held onto. Like a life raft. This resentment towards their parents Keith understood completely. He didn’t think a war was necessary for it, but he understood.

Despite this, a lot of people were wary of him now. More and more unclaimed were disappearing from camp to join Luke. Why would Keith not? Eight years was a long time to wait, after all…

And maybe Keith might have. If not for Shiro.

Shiro was the closest thing Keith had to a brother. Once upon a time, it had made him consider the chances of being a child of Hebe. He’d gotten rid of that idea almost immediately. Children of Hebe were way too good to be anything like him. Not that he had much to go off of. Shiro was the only claimed child of Hebe at camp at the moment, and, even though he was stuck in with all the unclaimed and Hermes kids, he never seemed resentful. He always paid attention too. He helped kids get settled in when they arrived, made sure they had plenty of people they could go to, even kept an eye on them after they’d been claimed and moved cabins. It was just in his nature to care - something Keith couldn’t understand how he did for all the brain cells he put into the notion.

But it had really helped him throughout the years. Shiro had always been there for him, since he’d first arrived three years ago. After so long of being alone, it was nice to have someone like Shiro.

Dragging the dummy out of the way, Keith thought about going to find Shiro. Maybe they could spar together. Or go to the dining pavilion - it was close to lunch anyway. Just then, though, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, hi, Keith,” Lotor said, walking up to him with purpose, tailed by the two girls who were always following him around. “Here all alone? I suppose it makes sense an unclaimed doesn’t have any friends.”

“Piss off, Lotor,” Keith spat, pulling out a dummy and carrying it over to one of the empty mounts.

“I guess it makes sense that you have no friends at camp. I heard they’re all with Luke. Only a matter of time until you follow, I suppose,” Lotor said, sighing like he really believed in that inevitable. Keith felt his blood boil.

“I’m not turning on camp,” he said, turning to Lotor suddenly. “And, for your information, I have friends here too.”

“Oh, yes, whatever,” Lotor said, waving his words away like particularly annoying flies. “Anyway, we were going to spar, but we seem to be uneven here. Care to join?”

Keith knew that was a bad idea. Everyone knew that was a bad idea. You see, Lotor was a kid of Tyche, the goddess of luck, and a pretty powerful one at that. Going against Lotor was stupid, dumb; he’d lose for sure.

Which is exactly why he couldn’t back down each time. Lotor had won too many times, and Keith was determined to bring him down. It wasn’t fair, especially when Lotor won on nothing but his own unnatural luck. Keith was brought down time after time from a misplaced foot or the awkward angle of his sword. The fights were never on skill, and that frustrated Keith to Hades.

When he accepted Lotor’s offer this time, he ended up on the ground not two seconds into the spar. But, hot-blooded as Keith was, he kept going back. And back. And back. Any time Lotor challenged him, Keith was there to take up the offer, as many times as he continued to lose.

Keith was good, but luck, luck was better. Luck had never been on Keith’s side.

“Again, Kogane?” Lotor asked from above, but Keith was already exhausted. The adrenaline from Lotor’s initial challenge was already wearing off, especially after he had already been sparring all day, even long before Lance had arrived.

But Keith had never been known to do things for his own good. He rose to his feet, readied his sword. “Again.”

He was taken down time and time again, none of it by skill, all by happenstance. Stupid things. A foot in the wrong place. A wrong sword angle.

It wasn’t long until Ezor and Zethrid were laughing their butts off. Lotor chuckled too as he watched Keith rise once again, wiping sweat from his forehead. “If this is what Luke is looking to recruit, camp should win without problem.”

Keith was exhausted. He knew, logically, he wouldn’t win anything like this, but he couldn’t leave it at this. Lotor would get what was coming to him and Keith would be the one to deliver it. Eventually, his luck had to run out.

“I bet you’re staying at camp to do the recruiting for him,” Lotor laughed. “How pathetic that he would choose someone who has gone years without being claimed.”

Keith brandished his sword before him. Lotor rolled his eyes, but he put his sword up again too.

“I’m _not_ working for Luke,” Keith gritted out through clenched teeth. His voice shook. He knew he was letting Lotor get to him.

Shaking the emotions away, Keith readied himself to lunge again when a voice interrupted them. A familiar voice. A voice Keith did not want to hear right now.

“What’s going on here?” Lance asked, stalking up to them, flanked by two other kids. Keith recognized them. It would have been strange not to, as long as he’d lived at camp. It was Hunk and Pidge, a child of Hephaestus and a wood nymph. Keith wondered what they were doing there.

“Keith, why are you always doing this?” Pidge asked, stalking forward to look up at him with this look in their eyes. He knew exactly what they were referring to. What they all saw, and what they all knew of his record with Lotor.

“Sparring,” he grunted simply, trying to stand tall despite the exhaustion dragging down his limbs. He crossed his arms, trying to appear put together. Pidge, of course, saw straight through him. And so did everyone around.

“Don’t spar with _him_ ,” Pidge said, practically growling on the last word as they glared at Lotor. Lotor just looked on, amused and innocent. At this, though, he spoke up.

“Keith here seems just fine sparring with me,” he said, shrugging a shoulder and smirking. “And I’d really like to continue, if you three don’t mind.”

They both turned toward Keith, Lotor with a challenge in his eye that set a fire in him that wanted to lash out, Pidge with a disapproving look. “Keith,” they said in warning.

Keith had never really listened to them when it came to stuff like this. He didn’t even listen to Shiro half the time when it came to Lotor. He turned back toward Lotor, lifting his sword. “Pidge, give us space.”

“Nope! Nope nope, nuh-uh,” Lance suddenly cut in, making Keith look his way. He was walking forward, coming to stand next to Pidge. “ _You_ , my friend, are exhausted. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Seriously? You’re calling me an idiot and expecting me to listen to you?” Keith asked, putting down his sword yet again to turn toward him.

“Yep,” Lance said, self-assured. “And you’re going to.”

“And why is that?” Keith couldn’t help but ask.

Suddenly, Lance seemed to get serious. He leaned forward, talking in a low voice and holding Keith’s eyes to his like glue. “Because, if you keep sparring Lotor like this, you’re never going to win. You’re probably the only one at this camp who can do it, but if you go in blindly like this, he’s never going to get what he deserves. And that’s to eat dirt at the tip of your sword.”

Keith paused, letting the words going through his mind, felt them tug on him, felt them tug him toward Lance, to put down the sword. Lance was right. Keith wanted Lotor to get what he deserved so bad, but Lance was right. That wouldn’t happen today. That wouldn’t happen when he didn’t have the strength to do it, or the level head to execute it.

So he clutched at his sword, then sheathed it. He turned toward Lotor. “Another day.”

And, with that, he followed the three out of the arena.

-/-

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk invited him to the mess hall for lunch, but Keith turned them down. Instead, he went to the showers, then back to the Hermes cabin, deciding to call it a day.

“Long day?” another camper asked as she walked by. Keith merely grunted in affirmation and Romelle giggled. She was a new comer there, yet she had already been claimed. Daughter of Iris. Apparently, since Iris was a messenger goddess, Romelle had inherited some strange ability to project thoughts into others’ minds.

 _Feel better_ , she whispered into his mind, and he pushed back a _Thank you_ that he hoped she got.

“I’m heading to Athena cabin,” she called as she left, and Keith could hear the excitement in her voice. That was another thing. As the daughter of the goddess of rainbows, she also claimed to it was her god(dess) given right to be as hopelessly gay for cabin six resident Allura as possible.

“Good luck,” Keith called, but she was already gone. He chuckled, then dropped his head back into his pillow. He stayed like that for a while, listening as voices carried in and out of the cabin. No one paid him any mind and no one disturbed him. Eventually, he was able to drift off, sleeping away much of the hot and sticky day as he could in the tolerably okay temperatures of the busiest cabin.

When he awoke, it was with regret. Mid-day naps were never a good idea. He felt groggy, somehow more tired than when he’d gone to sleep, but, as he tried to roll over and drift again, his body kick-started, letting him know that he would not be getting any more sleep any time soon. Great, he pissed his body off.

So, with a groan, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. When he looked around, he noticed that the cabin was darker, but still relatively empty. Beams of orange sunlight streamed in at odd angles, signalling a sunset over the Big House and time for dinner. Keith wasn’t sure if he was really hungry, but, then again, he’d only had breakfast that day and Shiro would surely come looking for him if he skipped two meals.

He huffed before swinging his legs over the bed, getting ready to stand before he saw another inhabitant of the cabin. Lance, laying in is bunk across the room, book propper up on his pillow where he had been reading on his stomach, was staring over at him. Keith’s wasn’t sure if it was the sunset or what, but his cheeks looked particularly dark.

“Lance?” he asked, causing the boy in question to jump.

“Keith!” he exclaimed, cheeks going even darker. “You’re up!”

“Yeah…” he replied, then stretched a bit, arms overhead. Lance made an odd sound. “Are you not going to dinner?”

Sounding rather strangled, Lance replied, “No, no. I am.”

“Okay…” Keith said, finally catching up to the awkwardness of the situation. He paused. “Well, we should get there?”

“What?” Lance squeaked. “Like, together?”

Keith frowned. “Um, I guess?” Why was Lance being so weird. “Why are you being so weird?” he decided to ask. Lance blinked, then shook his head, sitting up from his position. He cleared his throat.

“Weird? No, not weird. _You’re_ weird,” he accused, jumping down from the bed. “Let’s go get food.”

Keith, confused but amused, chuckled and shook his head. “Alright,” he said as he followed after.

Much of the walk there was spent in silence, and Keith watched the sunset, watched the blue of the Big House and the lonely porch swing out front. He looked up into the pavilion, seeing the commotion of kids getting food, scraping into the offering, talking and laughing and crowding into the Hermes table. But Keith’s thoughts wandered back down to the arena, looking at the desolate area and thinking about earlier in the day.

“Thanks for earlier,” Keith said, startling Lance.

“Huh?” Lance asked, brows furrowing in a cute way. Keith shook the thought from his head, refusing to get stuck on that bullshit again.

“When I was sparring Lotor. I shouldn’t have taken it so far.”

“Oh,” Lance said, then shrugged. “No problem. I know how you get.”

“Do you?” Keith asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t been aware that anyone paid attention to him. Shiro kept tabs on him. Pidge would beat up anyone who messed with him. Lotor did so only to the extent that he could piss him off. But Lance?

“Well, you’re always fighting Lotor, even though no one has beat him. He’s just got way too much luck for it to be worth it. But you think it’s worth it.”

“It’ll be worth it when he understands he can’t always win,” Keith huffed, frustrated and tired all at once. It was always an uphill battle when it came to Lotor. Or, maybe not even uphill. He was on a cliff and Keith couldn’t scale it. There was never any progress.

“But you always go at it when you’re not ready,” Lance pointed out, and Keith’s attention snapped to him. He frowned, ready to protest, but Lance continued. “Your emotions get everywhere, then you tire yourself out, then you won’t think straight. You’re way too impulsive.”

“That doesn’t matter. One of these days, I’ll beat him.”

“Not like that, you won’t,” Lance shook his head. “Hermes kids are like a Jack of All Trades, you know? So I know what it’s like to spread myself between different things. I’m not great at anything, but I can be alright at a couple.”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Keith said without thinking of it, then went red at the compliment. Lance looked at him a bit incredulously and Keith cleared his throat, determined now that he had said it, to explain. “I mean, you’re good at a lot of things, and it’s not just ‘alright’. Being a Hermes kid means you have the capacity to understand a whole lot, and you do.”

“Oh,” Lance said, and Keith turned towards him. His eyes were wide and staring at him, the tips of his ears red in the setting sun. He averted his gaze almost immediately, but Keith’s heart was already thumping wildly in his chest. There was the smallest of smiles on Lance’s lips as he determinedly stared down at his scuffed up tennis shoes, and it made a smile of his own appear on Keith’s face. “Thanks,” Lance said.

“It’s the truth,” Keith replied simply, turning to look back ahead of them again. They were quickly approaching the mess hall.

“Yeah, well, so, it’s like that,” Lance said, clearing his throat and tapping his fingers to his thigh, looking all around, probably to avoid Keith’s gaze. “Beating Lotor isn’t going to rely on just one of your skills. You have to pay attention to a lot more than that. You have to use your head as well as your instincts to figure it out.”

For a moment, Keith was silent. He watched the pavilion where he could see Shiro at the offering fire talking to Pidge’s brother, eyes soft as Shiro laughed at something Matt said. Lotor’s words filled his head again, the accusations he knows everyone must be thinking.

Shiro was the only one who had known just how close Keith had come at one point to actually following Luke out of there. One night, he had exploded with the frustration of it all and Shiro had been the one to calm him down. He’d told Keith not to cling to resentment, to use his head instead of running head first in with anger. It made sense then and it made sense now.

And, surprisingly, coming from Lance, it calmed him down easier than Shiro’s own go at it had. When Lance said it, it sounded like a plan, it sounded like something, not only logical, but attainable.

“I’ll think about that,” Keith said with a nod. Then, they stepped into the pavilion and were swept up in the hassle of kids all around and the delicious smells of dinner.

“And, Keith?” Lance asked. Keith turned to look at him, surrounded by excited kids and sloshing drinks and the smell of sweet burning. Lance scratched his head, looking sheepish, when he said, “About what Lotor was saying to you…”

“About what?” Keith asked, but he had a bad feeling that he knew what. He swallowed, unable to tear his gaze from Lance’s. His worry must have shown on his face because Lance’s gaze softened.

“I know that you aren’t with Luke, and so do a lot of people here. You’ve been at camp for too long to actually think that we could believe that. Too many here have your back for that. You know that, right?”

Keith felt frozen on the outside, but his insides were alive and a squirming hot mess. Suddenly, there was a lump in his throat and he had to look away in order to swallow it down, nodding his head.

“Yeah,” he said as evenly as he could. “Thanks, Lance.”

“No problem, man.”

-/-

“Keith,” Lotor greeted, walking into the arena and making an immediate detour his way. Keith, who had just been sharpening his sword before practice, turned to him with a scowl, clutching the whetstone tighter. He rubbed the pommel of his sword with a thumb, back and forth.

“What do you want, Lotor?” he asked, already on guard. Lotor didn’t have his lackies today, though, and the arena was considerably full of campers, all training for the day. Lotor wouldn’t try to pull anything.

“Our fight was interrupted the other day. Since we both seem to be in for practice, why don’t we give it another go?” Lotor smiled cruelly down at him, flicking a tiny lock of white hair that had fallen into his face away.

“So, you want someone to beat down for the day?” Keith translated, unable to really care about his pride at the moment, especially when a shocked look crossed Lotor’s face. This guy really needed someone who could counteract his powers if he ever wanted to become a better swordsman. Keith would prove that luck couldn’t always win one day, and then Lotor won’t have a single way to get better for those instances.

“I suppose I will have to go easy on you, then?” Lotor asked, rolling his eyes, but Keith shook his head.

“I won’t need it,” he huffed, feeling frustration bubble up inside him. Then, he remembered Lance’s words.

_“You’re way too impulsive.”_

Impulsive indeed. Keith paused, collecting his thoughts, letting his emotions settle down. He took the time to consider… was fighting Lotor right now a good idea?

He wasn’t tired from practice. And he had sorted out his emotions. His frustration was a dull murmur in his head, but, overall, he could think clearly. If there was ever a time, Keith decided it was now.

So he walked out into the open space, turning to face Lotor, who had done the same. People around the arena seemed to have taken notice and were hushing and gathering, interested to see how another Keith vs Lotor match would go. There were no exchanges of hands in the audience. They all obviously thought they knew how it would go.

And it probably would. Keith had lost to Lotor enough times to realize that, and could think clearly enough to know that he still wanted to try. He would never give up on trying to teach Lotor this lesson: that he couldn’t always win. Since he wouldn’t give up, he might as well learn from the fight.

So he raised his sword, defensive before him and stance low. Lotor tied back his hair, then mirrored the stance. Keith could hear murmurs in the crowd. He breathed one more deep in and out. He was ready as he’d ever be.

Then, he lunged.

Their swords clanged in a metallic ring, screeched as they broke apart, and repeated its reverberations over and over as they each attempted to disarm the other, and put each other in check-mate. He let his body carry him through on instinct, but maintained a clear head, watching to make sure his feet landed correctly, and his blade didn’t skid horribly. He was on the look-out for blatant uses of Tyche’s luck, but it was hard to divide his attention between his opponent and everything else.

One moment, his foot stepped to the side, far from where he’d meant, and he knew what was at play. Lotor’s sword came down to trip him, but Keith moved at the very last second, breathing heavily as the toll of the fight dragged on his limbs. Lotor was fluid and natural, but even he looked to be feeling the effects.

It showed most especially in the increasing number of Keith’s simple screw-ups, things that would have rarely happened had he not been against such strong luck. Somehow, though, he barely dodged each one.

 _“You have to use your head as well as your instincts to figure it out,”_ Lance’s voice in his head reminded him.

Balance. It was something Lotor lacked. There was no balance between his wins and losses. There was no balance between his goods and bads. Luck spun everything around Lotor, and he avoided the natural order of the world with it. Keith had lacked balance too, relying on his instinct and frustration to carry him through his battles. Not anymore.

Keith’s sword skidded at an odd angle along Lotor’s blade, heading straight for the dirt below them, and, after that, Keith would be unforgivably open for take-down. He could feel the power behind the move, the golden luck winding its way around Lotor’s blade, blessing it, and its repercussions, its own way of balancing the world, pushing all the bad luck onto Keith’s blade. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

But this action and reaction were twisting the natural order, pushing things around that weren’t meant to happen. And Keith felt his need to right it.

Then, he pushed that need into the power he felt around him, burning away the luck and bad luck and leaving only the way of the world. He felt it all cancel out, his blade swinging with his weight so that, instead of falling into the dirt, it spun around with his body and fell back on the other side of Lotor’s blade. Lotor, for a moment, looked shell-shocked, before he snarled and bat away the blade.

They were back into the throng of it, metal clangs, the audience’s cheers, sweat in their eyes. Keith could feel the luck working around him, working against him, but he could also feel something else. He could feel it canceling with each of his moves. He could feel the luck withering away.

And Lotor could too. His swings became harder, his spurts of luck more and more desperate. They were both tiring, but, somehow, in some way, Lotor’s luck was running out.

Then, in a display of great irony, Lotor’s foot misstepped. Keith reached forward with his own, hooking around the ankle and pulling. Lotor fell right to the ground, wincing as his head hit the dirt. Keith kicked the sword from his hand, then hovered over his pliant body, surprise on his usually impassive face. He pointed his sword at Lotor’s jugular and called for his concession.

Swallowing, Lotor looked around, then down at the blade at his throat. He must have known Keith wouldn’t hurt him, but the sight seemed to scare him all the same. He’d rarely been in this position in his life, now had he? And the sudden appearance of it must have opened up some sort of crisis in his brain.

“I concede,” Lotor said, his voice shaking, then Keith lowered his sword and offered a hand up.

Surprisingly enough, Lotor accepted, though, once standing on his feet, he fled immediately, not looking back. Keith didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because, almost immediately afterward, he felt someone tackle into his side.

“Oh my gods, Keith! You did it!” Lance practically shouted in his ear. Keith was stunned, momentarily, by the sudden closeness, and it must have shown on his face because, when Lance looked at him, their faces mere centimeters apart, he stopped short, eyes widening and sucking in a breath. Lance backed away very quickly. “Sorry.”

But Keith just laughed. “That’s alright.”

That was when he heard the crowd around him, all cheering and rushing in with congratulations. Pidge and Hunk were there too, whooping and hollering, and Keith felt a smile grow on his face.

Then, everything stopped. The crowd shushed around him, and they all ceased approaching, suddenly looking wide-eyed. Some were excited, some looked confused others pointed somewhere overhead.

Keith glanced toward Lance, but he was frozen too, looking somewhere above.

Keith looked too.

“Oh,” he breathed, the glowing sigil a dull pulsing glow in the midafternoon sun. Around him, campers started to kneel, as was custom. He watched as they all lowered themselves, like a great wave. Hunk and Pidge knelt, the nymph, sending him a thumbs up when they saw his gaze. He saw, towards the back of the crowd, Shiro approach and kneel, holding a fist to his chest as he watched on in pride. Keith saw so many of his friends from the Hermes’ cabin there, including Romelle, and Allura next to her too.

And he saw Lance, at the front and still closest to him, kneel with a reassuring smile and a nod of his head. Chiron wasn’t present, so Lance seemed to take it upon himself to do the honors.

“All Hail,” he said, voice strong and carrying over the throngs of people, “Keith Kogane, son of Nemesis.”


	2. End of the Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after Sea of Monsters. 
> 
> Originally Posted: February 24, 2019 on [my writing blog](https://codevassie.tumblr.com) where I accept oneshot requests.

It was toward the end of summer and things at camp were already starting to wind down. Many campers had already left, while the rest were packing and saying their goodbyes. A lot of campers were making last-minute decisions, contemplating if they even wanted to go home, or if it was a good idea.

Keith didn’t have that luxury. He didn’t have any family to go home to. For the first time out of all his summers he’d been at camp, though, a family to go home to wasn’t what was on his mind. It was the other kids who were leaving. It was all the faces that he wouldn’t see for the year, and the ones he might not see again. Some kids would be going to college, too old to return. Some wouldn’t make it back. Leaving camp was always a risk for demigods.

Besides, Keith was a bit done thinking about family for the time being. There were plenty of summers where he would look up at Half-Blood Hill and see the world beyond, imagine a rundown apartment in Texas or a weather-beaten shack in the desert. He would think about his dad and wish with all his being he were still alive.

Then, he would think of his mom. He would imagine the feeling of having a family again when he was claimed. He’d have brothers and sisters. Maybe a cabin where he could feel like he belonged. Ever since he was claimed, though, he’d decide not to dwell on the family thing all that much. He got some brothers and sisters, and that was great. He didn’t get a cabin, but that didn’t bother him too much.

For some reason, though, finally being claimed just didn’t make Keith as happy as he’d thought.

Nemesis still hadn’t wanted him for eight years. And that _still_ ate at him.

So, Keith didn’t think about it a lot. Instead, he watched as campers said their goodbyes, as the Hermes cabin became more of a mess than usual, as kids tried to find their things and pack them away. Most year-rounders stayed out of the cabins, and Keith, once awaking to the commotion, decided to do the same. Still in his pajamas, he got through it all to the door, then walked to the pavilion.

The pavilion was a mess too. Campers ate their last camp meals of the year, crowding the Hermes table to the rim. How was it possible that so many kids were here when the cabin itself was so packed?

Keith decided that he would sit at that table over his dead body, so he grabbed a granola bar from one of the dryads and left the mess hall, deciding to wander camp instead. It was a cloudy day, and it would most likely rain. The border, however, would keep it out now that it was healthy and fixed. Looking down at his necklace, Keith thumbed at the tiny bead with a golden fleece.

He continued on his way, chewing his granola and chuckling at kids who ran from cabin to cabin, armory to arts and crafts, wherever they may have left something. For a second, he noticed Allura bolt out of the Athena cabin lugging a whip and a broadsword. A pang went through Keith’s chest as he realized she would be leaving. He wouldn’t see her for almost a year.

It was funny. Keith was horrible with making friends, but two years ago, when she had first arrived in tow of Coran, he’d been put in charge of showing her around. Since then, they’d team up often in camp activities when Shiro, or, more recently, Romelle, weren’t available.

“Allura!” he called, and she turned around suddenly, hair poofing up in its disarray. She looked tense and hurried, but she relaxed once she saw who it was that was calling her.

“Keith,” she greeted. “How are you?”

“Alright,” he nodded. “Are you heading home soon?”

“Oh, not until the day after tomorrow, actually,” she said.

“Nice,” Keith replied. “Then I don’t have to say goodbye just yet.”

“No, no,” Allura said, shaking her head. “Though perhaps for now. I am in a hurry.”

“Oh,” Keith said, then felt guilty. She was obviously in a rush. “Sorry about that.”

“Not at all,” she said, tossing her whip over her shoulder. “I’ll definitely see you before I leave, though, okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, then watched as she waved and went on her way. Keith turned and continued on his own, wandering toward the dock now.

Once he got there, he took off his shoes and day-old socks and dangled his feet into the water. It felt nice, on this warm day. The temperature was regulated again because of the fleece. Keith had always been a little hot-blooded though.

“Hey, dude!” a sudden voice made him jump. Whipping around, Keith knew it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“Gods damn it, Lance!” he exclaimed, swatting at the other boy’s leg where he stood next to him on the dock. For a brief second, he contemplated knocking Lance into the water. Lance sat down, however, and ruined his chances.

“Did you just say ‘gods damn it’?” Lance asked, taking off his flip-flops so he could put his feet in the water too. “Lame.”

“You’re right. There’s only one god in charge of damning you to hell. I’m appealing to all the wrong people.”

At this, Lance kicked water at him, pouting severely. “That’s so mean!”

“You’re lucky the Big Three made that pact. I could be appealing to a Hades kid right now,” Keith teased, kicking water back, and Lance, much to his delight, laughed.

“I can’t believe Hades is the only one right now without a kid here,” he said, shaking his head. Keith shrugged.

“I guess that thing with the fleece was pretty wild,” he said, and they left it at that. With the looming threat of war now on the horizon, it wasn’t a topic that a lot of people liked to dwell on at camp.

Keith looked out toward where the sky met the sea, perhaps another reminder of Zeus’ and Poseidon’s domains. He sighed, looking away and to the trees along one of the beaches instead. He imagined their branches bare in a few months, camp all but deserted. He thought of lonely campfires among the hand full of other campers who would stay, capture the flag without the challenge, the dining pavilion without Lance’s laugh-

Keith sucked in a breath and coughed. Lance looked over at him, concerned, but Keith sat up and pretended like it hadn’t happened. Or that he hadn’t been thinking what he’d been thinking.

“So,” he spoke up, trying to redirect. “Are you all packed?”

“Me?” Lance asked, like he found the notion humorous. Keith rolled his eyes. How could he have thought any different? “Nah. I’m staying a little longer.”

“Longer?” Keith asked, sitting up straight. “How much longer?”

Lance toed the water, making swirls and patterns and humming in contemplation. Keith noticed his own breath stop, held in his lungs in anticipation.

A part of him wanted Lance to stay. He hated saying goodbye to his friends at the end of summer, and he was going to miss Lance so much more than he’d ever admit to anyone. Because… they might have bickered, and maybe they didn’t “hang out”, but they were friends, right?

…right?

Then, there was the part of him that feared if Lance stayed. Because Lance had a family of his own to go back to. He could pull off a normal life. Keith would never want him to stick back when Lance could have that. Or experience the lonely months of camp, training, trying to learn things from SAT practice books if you planned on going to college after this all. Squinting and brain hurting as you tried to learn the concepts by yourself.

They had study groups during the school year at camp, and Keith wasn’t completely alone. He had Shiro. But he couldn’t even imagine it all with Lance.

“Just a few days,” Lance said, shaking Keith out of his thoughts. Keith looked back. “I got permission to stay because my sister is coming to visit.”

“Really? You mean Veronica?” Keith asked, and Lance nodded, looking excited.

“She’s always off with the hunters, never in the same place for long or keeping track of time. I mean, they’re immortal,” Lance said. “It’ll be good to see her.”

“Definitely,” Keith agreed. He felt happy for Lance and, looking back at the horizon, he forgot about all the other stuff. For a moment, he forgot about the gods and the war and just focused on the beauty of it all.

“Which brings me to my question,” Lance said, and Keith looked back.

“A question?” Keith asked. Lance, who also looked at the horizon, nodded his head, looking determined. It was cute.

_Damn it. Stop that, Keith._

“She’s actually coming for our birthday,” he said, and Keith blinked. “I’ve asked a couple other people to stay for a few days, which won’t be a problem because the cleaning harpies won’t start chowing down campers for another week-”

“That’s a myth,” Keith interrupted, ignoring the irony of the statement, and Lance ignoring him.

“Because I’m having a little get together for it. It’s not much. I really just wanted to see everyone before we part for the year and all, but Pidge said they would break into the kitchen and Hunk is gonna make a cake. I’m thinking of using the Big House’s old-ass computer to print out a picture of a pegasus and we can pin the tail with bow and arrow or something,” Lance shrugged, swinging his legs more in the water.

“That sounds fun,” Keith commented, imagining it. He had seen Lance in archery before and he was really good. He’d definitely win that contest.

“Yeah, it does,” Lance said, looking determinedly down at his feet. “And I was wondering if you would want to come.”

And, here’s the thing. Keith knew he heard it. He heard every word. He heard them all in the correct order. He knew what Lance was asking.

But it didn’t make sense.

“What?” he asked, head turning to watch Lance full-on. Lance scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the water.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

Keith’s eyes widened. “No! No, yeah! I’d like to come,” he said, and he was almost out of breath despite the complete lack of effort a couple of words cost him. But the situation was still a little unreal to him, and Keith had no idea what he was agreeing to. He’d never been invited to anything.

Much less by Lance.

They had been at camp for almost entirely the same amount of time. Because of that, Keith felt like he knew Lance better than most. But better than most still didn’t mean jack shit coming from Keith. The closest people to him were Shiro, Allura, and maybe Pidge. He’d gotten to know Matt a bit more lately because of Shiro too.

But it was proximity that Keith “knew” most people at camp. He knew that girl’s name because she’d been here for years. He knew that guy had two younger brothers at home because it was all he talked about at dinners. He knew Lance because that was just the way it was.

Other than the fact that they’d been scurrying around camp since the same summer, the same amount of beads on their necklaces, but they shared a cabin, and participated in many of the same activities because of it. They were matched up in sparring a lot because of their similar age and, of course, there had been that whole ‘rivalry’ thing for a while back there.

And now. Now, Keith could never keep his eyes of Lance. He wasn’t sure when it had begun, but, some time in the past few years, Keith had started to notice just how good Lance was at archery, how much he enjoyed sparring against him or teaming up with him during capture the flag. He noticed when his hair got all windswept after pegasus riding, or how perfectly his eyes reflected off the water during canoe racing.

Keith knew Lance. Maybe a lot more than other people at camp. But that didn’t mean a thing when it came to Lance knowing him.

Keith wondered again if they were friends. Probably not, but… going to Lance’s birthday… that could _make_ them friends, right?

“I don’t think I have anything to give you,” Keith realized, then glared down at his hand on the dock. Maybe he could find something at the camp store. Deodorant? No. Maybe he could make something at the arts and crafts building. Keith was terrible at that stuff though…

But Lance was shaking his head. “Don’t get me anything. Just come and have a good time. Like I said, it’s more to get with friends that celebrate my birthday.”

“Okay…” Keith reluctantly agreed, still not sure of the proper etiquette for something like this. He’d have to ask Shiro. “So, when is it?”

“Tomorrow around 2 at the amphitheatre,” Lance said, lifting his feet out of the water and putting his flip flops back on. Keith looked up, suddenly afraid he had said something wrong. “I got to go,” Lance explained, getting to his feet. “Just because I don’t need to pack, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t clean. I’m not giving my sister any ammo for teasing. She already has enough.”

“Oh,” Keith said, nodding as he averted his gaze again. He felt silly, thinking that. “Have fun.”

Lance laughed at that. “I’ll certainly try,” he said. “I guess I’ll see you. Probably before the party since we share a cabin, plus, the dining pavilion isn’t going to have a lot of people tonight and-” Lance cut himself off. “Erm, yeah. So, see yah.”

Then, he scrambled off, Keith staring incredulously after. He shook his head and chuckled a bit.

“Alright,” he said, moreso speaking to himself. “See you then.”

-/-

It was 2 o’clock. Keith had gotten a pack of candy from the Stoll brothers’ illegal trade in the Hermes cabin, which he had no idea if Lance would even like or not, but oh well. Now he was in the amphitheatre where a handful of others had already gathered. Weird, because Keith was literally right on time.

It looked like a lot of them had arrived earlier to help set up though. Keith felt bad that he hadn’t thought of doing that, but then remembered his complete lack of people skills and decided there probably wouldn’t have been much he could do anyway.

“Keith! Hello!” a familiar voice greeted, and Keith turned to see Allura walking his way. Ah, so that was why she was waiting to go home.

“Hey, Allura,” he said, waving with the hand where he clutched the bag of candy. When he realized, he lowered it, face turning just a bit pink. Allura had that twinkle in her eye now. Great.

“You’ve come for Lance’s birthday, I see,” she remarked, having mercy on the lame gift he had brought, and Keith nodded. She smiled. “Alright, well, would you mind coming to help with some of the blankets?”

“Blankets?” he asked, now taking a better look around. Sure enough, there was a red wagon full of blankets off to the side. “Why blankets?”

“We decided sitting on the logs by an unlit fire was boring, so we brought blankets to lay out on the steps. It’s a lot more comfortable, I think,” she said, walking toward the wagon. Keith followed, nodding along to the logic, then helped set them out.

As they were doing that, he looked around to see who else had arrived. Pidge and Hunk, true to Lance’s word, had handled food. There were chips and sodas, apparently from the kitchen and not the Stoll brothers, as Pidge was a dryad and knew the ins and outs of the Big House’s kitchen. Then, there was a modest, but delicious-looking cake, courtesy of Hunk. The two were currently over there setting the goods out on a stone table, identical to those in the pavilion, that had somehow magically appeared.

Matt and Shiro, not too far away from where Allura and him were putting out the blankets, were setting up some sort of sound system, which, to be honest, looked ancient. Keith was no expert on technology, not having left the camp, which was overall devoid of most tech, since he was six, but he could tell the old radio was beyond any of their times. He could also tell by the look on Matt’s face. How a dryad, who probably hadn’t left camp for much longer than Keith had, knew anything about technology himself, though, was beyond Keith.

Then, there were the birthday twins themselves. Lance and Veronica were making a target with a pegasus brandishing its tail-less butt at them, attaching tails to an array of arrows for the game. They laughed together, Veronica hitting her brother in the arm for some stupid joke or another. The sight made Keith smile.

He remembered Veronica. It was hard not to, really, when she had been there for so long herself before joining the hunters of Artemis. The two McClain twins had arrived to camp at the same time, or so Keith was told, and had both been claimed on their first birthday at camp by Hermes. Keith remembered their claiming, and he remembered how inseparable the two had been for a while. Then, two years ago, Veronica had left.

Now, despite the short time she had been away, her immortality had already affected their difference in appearance so much. While they used to look almost identical, now Veronica, stopped just at the cusp of puberty, still looked like a kid, like Lance’s younger sister, instead of his twin. Lance, in comparison, looked like a teenager, jaw becoming more defined and shoulders broader. It was slightly jarring to see, the blatant change in the years like this. It made him sad, in a way, to see how far apart the twins had come.

But that feeling couldn’t stay for long when he noticed how happy the two looked to be together again, and how natural they fell back into their inseparable sibling dynamic. Keith watched as Lance made a quip, causing Veronica’s face to go red as she sputtered. She dished out what she got, though, and, soon, Lance’s face was changing the same. Keith laughed to himself, then focused on straightening the next blanket.

-/-

It was a little odd, hanging out with other campers. Realizing this, Keith found it odd that he would think it odd. But he’d never done something like this before. Whenever he talked with other campers, it was at dinner, or at training or activities. Now, Keith realized how truly lame he was for never actually hanging out in all the years he’d attended camp.

But it was nice too. They all lounged about on the blankets, once they were set out. Hunk played on a DS he had smuggled into camp, Pidge squished in beside him and watching as he mashed buttons and swayed with the motion of his character on the screen. Pidge kept shouting advice and swears. It was funny to watch.

Next to them, Lance was going back and forth from watching the game and talking to his sister, sitting criss-cross beside him, and Romelle and Allura, laying on their bellies and giggling beside each other. Romelle, Keith noticed, practically had sparkles in her eyes as she watched Allura speak.

Then, there was him, Matt, and Shiro off to the side. Matt, looking a bit irked, was threatening to strangle the radio with plants he conjured, while Shiro, sitting back, leaning on his hands planted on the blanket behind him, was calmly talking him out of it. He, too, seemed to have a bit of sparklage going on. Keith, sitting awkwardly on his folded legs, simply watched them, pretending to be apart of their conversation.

Distracted with watching Shiro and Matt talk with one another, Matt making a couple saplings from the ground dance dangerously close to the radio system and Shiro raising an unamused (or trying to be unamused, at least) eyebrow at him, Keith didn’t notice someone approach until they had sat down beside him.

For a moment, Keith’s heart leaped into his throat, imagining Lance had come over for some reason or another. Keith would give him the candy, which he still held in his hand and couldn’t stop fidgeting with, and wish him happy birthday. Then, he noticed it was not, in fact, Lance.

It was, surprisingly, Romelle.

“Oh,” Keith said with a certain amount of surprise, but no disappointment. Sure, he had wished it was Lance, but he liked Romelle. She was nice. What he couldn’t figure out was: what was she doing with Keith when Allura was over there? “Hey,” he greeted.

“Is it alright if I sit over here for a while?” she asked, looking a lot… different, than he’d seen her just minutes before. She still smiled, and he could tell she was trying to look cheerful, but her shoulders were down and the sparkle had left her eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, and she sent him a grateful smile.

“So, how are you?” Romelle asked, flattening her camp tee, and getting more comfortable on the blanket.

Keith shrugged. “Alright. You?”

“Oh, you know,” she shrugged, but it was obvious she didn’t want to talk about it. Keith could understand. So, instead, they talked about nothing in general, finding idle topics and elaborating their butts off about them. It was an uninteresting conversation, but, for once, Keith didn’t mind talking about the stupid things. As they carried on, he could tell it helped Romelle get her mind off whatever was bothering her.

However, stupid topics couldn’t ever hold Keith’s attention for long. As they were talking, he didn’t notice it, but he had started to look across their group, right at Lance.

“So, Lance,” Romelle commented, and Keith jumped. When he looked back over, she looked amused. “Did you get those for him?” she asked, nodding toward the pack of candy. For a moment, she seemed all-knowing - like Allura - but she didn’t look teasing. She looked curious. “You should go over and give it to him.”

Keith shook his head. “He’s busy.”

“Pssh,” Romelle rolled her eyes. “Of course he is. He’s surrounded by his friends.”

“Yeah, which means I’d be interrupting,” Keith said, but Romelle was already standing up. His eyes widened. “Romelle, what are you doing?” he asked, dread filling his voice, but she was already stepping away from him.

“Not all of us need to luck out today,” she said, then she was gone. Keith watched as she approached Lance and sat down with that group again. He also noticed that, the more she had drawn closer, the more she had avoided Allura’s eye.

_Oh._

Gods, poor Romelle.

_Not all of us need to luck out today._

But then, Keith started to panic for his own sake. As he looked back to what Romelle was doing, he noticed Lance standing up.

_Shit shit shit shit shit._

So, when Lance walked over and sat down next to him, Keith panicked further and pretended he didn’t notice he was there. Smart.

“Hey,” Lance said after a few seconds. Keith jumped because of nerves, but it probably helped with his ridiculous pretending.

Keith looked over nervously. “Hey.” Then he looked away. He saw Romelle watching and narrowed his eyes. She turned to talk to Hunk and Pidge, looking delighted with the game they were playing.

“Sorry I haven’t been over yet,” Lance said. “I may have gotten a little excited to see my sister.”

“That’s no problem,” Keith said, shaking his head. “You can go back over. You didn’t have come over here just for me.”

“Nah, dude. I invited you for a reason,” Lance laughed, like something about that was obvious. None of it was. “So let’s talk. I hope you haven’t been too bored.”

Keith shook his head. “I’ve been talking to Matt and Shiro. And Romelle.” Then, remembering, he looked down at the candy in his hand. “By the way,” he said. Suddenly, it was quite difficult to get the words out. “These. Are. For you?”

He lifted the candy. Lance’s eyes lit up and Keith could have sworn he heard him gasp. “Keith, I told you not to get me anything.”

Keith shrugged. “It’s not much.” It was just a pack of candy. Last birthday Shiro had given him some money that he hadn’t seen much point spending until now. This was totally worth it, in Keith’s eyes. He handed it over. “I hope you like sour things.”

“I love sour candy,” Lance gushed, the plastic crinkling in his hand, and, at this, Keith finally looked up again. He smiled a bit, pleased.

“Me too,” he agreed.

“Wanna share?” Lance asked, ripping open the candy. Keith’s eyes went wide.

“I got them for you,” he said, falling into panic again. This wasn’t norm, was it? Sharing your birthday present?

“Yeah, and I wanna share them,” Lance declared, tone leaving no room for argument. Keith shifted awkwardly, but stayed silent. Lance picked a gummy out, popped it in his own mouth, then offered the bag for Keith to take one. Tentatively, Keith did.

Then, because when Keith did open his mouth, he said something stupid.

“Is it weird sharing a birthday with someone who doesn’t age?”

Lance stopped, eyes widening, and Keith felt that familiar panic well up, before Lance smiled.

“I used to think so, yeah,” Lance answered truthfully. “Not so much anymore. I think it still means something to us even if it’s not the passage of time. It’s a celebration of the both of us, and it’s something we still share.”

“That. Makes sense,” Keith said, nodding. He sucks on the gummy worm a bit. Lance reaches for another worm.

“What are you even doing to that poor thing?” Lance asked, pointing at the now half-sour worm in Keith’s hand. Then, somehow, naturally, like they were regular friends talking about regular things, they fell into an innocent squabble about the barbarous treatment he was putting his gummy worm through, and, in Keith’s opinion, the equally horrible murder of Lance’s worms as he bit through half of their body. That led into a conversation about how worms regenerate their bodies, depending on how they are severed.

Somehow, Keith lost track of time, and all sense of panic that he’d had before, talking with Lance. It wasn’t until Veronica sat down next to them, waggling her eyebrows at Lance for some reason, and started to talk to Keith that Keith realized he had forgotten just where they were.

It was somewhat awkward, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t know Veronica, so, when she asked him questions, he didn’t see any reason to feel too awkward about answering. Then, as this carried on, more and more people from their group seemed to gravitate toward them, chiming in about stories told or their own experiences. Romelle and Hunk joined and bounced jokes off each other seemlessly. Pidge dragged their brother away from the radio, and Shiro and Allura scooted over too. Soon, they were playing truth or dare, which quickly changed to duck duck goose, somehow, and everyone was laughing as Lance chased his quick sister around the circle.

And Keith found that he was having fun. More fun than he had ever had before, honestly. And, somehow, even when everyone switched up around the circle because of the game, he found himself next to Lance again as he and his sister were presented with a cake and a spattering of lit candles.

After the cake was done, the sun was setting and Veronica challenged Lance to their pin the tail on the pegasus game. Keith watched as everyone migrated away from the blankets. However, something held him back. He sat, an easy smile on his face as he watched Lance line up his first shot.

“Did Lance like his present?” Romelle asked as she sat down next to him, and Keith nodded yes without breaking his gaze.

“Thanks for that,” Keith said, and, funny enough, he found that he meant it. As awkward as it had been that she’d gone and gotten Lance for him, it had turned out great.

“No problem,” Romelle answered, and she sounded cheery, despite her earlier mood. He looked over at her.

“You doing okay?”

Romelle, still looking down at the others, shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“I’m sorry for whatever happened,” he offered, then turned his own gaze back. Lance, tremendous archer he was, made a bulls-eye. Veronica was next. Being a hunter of Artemis, it was going to be a close match.

“Did you know Allura and Lotor are dating?” Romelle said suddenly, and it was so shocking that Keith had to turn back.

“What? Seriously?”

But Romelle just nodded calmly. “Yep.”

“Wow,” was all Keith could say, and turned away again. Then, and he wasn’t sure why, Keith said, “I’m sure that sucks for Lance to hear too.”

This, however, seemed to shock Romelle. “Lance?”

“Yeah. You guys can find solidarity in each other for that at least.”

“I…don’t think Lance likes Allura,” Romelle said carefully, sounding slightly confused. Keith just shook his head.

“He’s flirted with her for two years,” Keith said, and he’s not sure why he’s noticed that. “He definitely likes her.”

“I don’t know, Keith. That’s not the vibe I’ve gotten off him,” Romelle replied, sounding doubtful.

Keith shrugged. “Well, whatever the case,” he said.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, watching the games below. Veronica had gotten a bulls-eye as well, and the two siblings had bickered for a while over who had the better shot. Now, though, Allura was up.

“You don’t go home for the year, right?” Romelle asked, and Keith shook his head.

“Nope,” he replied. “Nowhere to go.”

“Me neither,” she replied, and, somehow, Keith found solidarity in that. Then, she started to get up, moving to join the others down by the target. For a moment, though, she paused and turned back. “I think we’re going to become great friends.”

She smiled, and Keith smiled back. A true and real smile.

“I’d like that.”

Then, she hopped down the steps until she came to the ampitheatre floor, hurrying up to Allura and making some kind of joke to the girl. Allura laughed and Romelle’s eyes glowed. The sparkle didn’t come back and Romelle still hurt, but she seemed determined not to lose the friend she had in Allura and Keith felt proud of her for that.

Keith didn’t move from his spot on the stairs of the ampitheatre, criss-cross on a blanket and gazing down at his friends, but he didn’t feel lonely for it. Even if many of them would be leaving tomorrow, Keith didn’t feel like it was goodbye just yet.

In fact, the end of this summer felt more of a beginning than anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I marked this as complete but I do have other ideas for this AU so I may come back to it one day! Feel free to ask questions about the AU in the comments or on [my writing blog](https://codevassie.tumblr.com).


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